


At Summer's End

by wir_sind_die_Jager



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin
Genre: Angst, Gen, Spoilers for manga, pre 104th Trainees Squad, titan trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wir_sind_die_Jager/pseuds/wir_sind_die_Jager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A warm summer evening allows Reiner to forget himself and just get lost in the joy of being a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Summer's End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [http://www.sweet-honey-amber.tumblr.com](/gifts?recipient=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.sweet-honey-amber.tumblr.com).



> This is my present to Sweet-Honey-Amber on tumblr for the Shingeki no Kyojin Secret Santa swap. She'd asked for something feels-inducing surrounding the titan trio. I guess this is a touch more Reiner-centric, but I'm unable to help that since he's my favorite! ^-^ Enjoy.

Scowling at their daily pittance of bread, Annie decided she'd had enough. Rising to her feet, she spared a glance at her two comrades before stating, “I'm done with this. I'm going out hunting.”

“Annie!” Reiner scolded with exaggerated aggravation. “There's a ban on hunting! You'll be arrested or worse.”

Folding her arms over her chest, Annie stared down at him, ice blue eyes narrowing dangerously. For the last year, Annie put up with Reiner's declarations about being their 'leader' simply because he is the oldest. All throughout their journey to the human territory, she suffered through his incessant nagging and overbearing attempts at camaraderie.

“No, I won't,” Annie simply stated. “These dumb humans can ban themselves from hunting all they like; I'm not one of them, so their laws do not apply to me.”

“That's the dumbest logic I've ever heard!” Reiner turned to his pensive best friend, quietly munching on his bread as he looked as if he would rather be anywhere but there. “Bertl, tell her how stupid that logic is.”

“Uhm. Leave me out of this,” Bertolt replied under his breath.

“Heh,” Annie smirked triumphantly. “See? Even Bertolt agrees with me.”

“That's not at all what he said,” Reiner replied gruffly, eyeing his friend disapprovingly. He tried one last ditch attempt for Annie to see his reasoning. “Annie, we're supposed to be incognito. That means acting like one of them, making them think we're one of them. We have to stay in character.”

“Fine. You stay here with Bertolt and be in character and starve while you're at it. I am going to play the role of a girl who is so overcome with hunger that she no longer cares about hunting bans. I'm a kid. What are they going to do? Fine my parents? Heh.” She turned to leave.

“Try imprison you!” Reiner called after her.

“Fine by me. They feed prisoners bread and water. So I'm no worse off, except I would have the benefit of not having to listen to you boss me around.”

“Hey!” Reiner cried as he rose to his feet, but the petite blonde was already gone. Reiner stood there, shaking with offense at Annie's complete disregard for his authority. He gave a start at a gentle and warm touch to one of his shaking small fists. Looking down, Reiner softened to see Bertolt looking up at him, exasperated but smiling softly.

“Sit down, Reiner. You're so hungry you can't see logic. It's making you grouchy, too.”

“I'm sorry, Bertl,” Reiner mumbled as he returned to a sitting position, scooting closer to his best friend so he could rest his towhead on Bertl's warm shoulder. “I just hate how she fights me so much.”

“Just let her be.”

“We're a team,” Reiner reminded Bertl, closing his amber eyes. “We have to work together.”

“We work just fine together.”

“Yes, but,” Reiner nearly whined, scrambling to find the words. “It isn't just today. She's always like this. Why doesn't Annie like me? What did I ever do to her?”

“Mmm...” the brunet boy mused. “I think you know the answer to that.”

A pregnant pause before Reiner opened his eyes and uttered a single word, “Berwick.”

Bertolt did not need to agree; Reiner knew he was correct. Their other best friend, the one who rounded out their trio originally, was meant to be here. Not Annie. Due to Berwick's untimely demise during their final training excursion, though, a replacement was needed. Enter: Annie Leonhardt, like all of the children in their sleepy mountain village, she was trained since she took her first steps.

“It's silly for her to be upset at us anyway,” Reiner grumbled, picking at his bread and eating it intermittently. “She was the first choice...it's just that we, you, Berwick and me,”

“...Were best friends.”

“ _Are_ best friends,” Reiner corrected firmly under his breath. “We work better together because we're friends and that's why the three of us were picked. We'd stick together and be the best warriors ever.”

“Annie is an excellent warrior,” Bertolt gently argued.

“I know, I know, she's just a lousy teammate.” Reiner chomped his bread angrily. “I wish she would try more, at being a better friend. You know?”

“You need to set an example,” Bertolt suggested, poking his friend in the stomach. “You claim to be our leader, Reiner. So act like one.”

“I try,” Reiner whined. “I'm nice to her most of the time. Except when she riles me up on purpose.”

“Try not to let her get to you,” Bertolt advised. “She's just unhappy to be away from home. We still have years to go before we can go back, and that's not easy. Is it?”

“I guess not,” Reiner reluctantly contended, still pouting as he rested against his taller best friend and slowly munched on his daily bread allowance.

With some food in his stomach, Reiner got up and stretched before going over to put on his boots. He hated wearing them in the summer months, but they were the only pair he had. He would need new footwear soon enough, though; he was growing out of them too quickly for his own comfort.

“I should go to town,” he said, giving his friend a small look over his shoulder. “I would say come with me, but since Annie ditched us, you'll need to guard our humble abode.”

Bertolt shrugged. “I'd rather stay here anyway. Besides, Annie didn't ditch us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reiner huffed under his breath, rising to his feet with a wince. His toes were practically smashed against the toe of his shoes. Refusing to complain, Reiner walked over to the other boy and ruffled his hair. “I'll be back soon.”

“Bye,” Bertolt said, waving at the other boy when Reiner turned at the door of the old barn to smile at him.

They played the dutiful downtrodden refugee schtick for the first year rather well, able to slip in and out of the overpopulated area with ease. A month ago, though, the government sent most of the adult refugees back into the wilds of Wall Maria - “to reclaim our territory!” - leaving the refugee area a wilderness of orphans. They were shocked initially, then darkly pleased about this turn of events; the humans had done the work for them. Nobody was expected to return from that.

Most of the kids were carted off daily to barren farmlands, toiling away at overused and abused soil that could no longer produce the crops needed to feed so many mouths. Having other business to attend to, the infiltrators hung back and sequestered themselves in an old, stone barn not too far from both town and country. Bertolt never volunteered to go to town alone, generally preferring to stick close to their makeshift headquarters. Had Annie been around, Reiner would have dragged his reticent friend along for the company and sunshine. He thought Bertl needed to get out more.

As he approached the town square, Reiner made sure to stick close to the shadows of the buildings. Hidden in plain sight. Here, he was just another nameless, faceless child; he could on a task for his mother, or going to meet his friends. He may not be as conspicuous as tiny Annie, but as long as he keeps his vision forward and his gait steady, Reiner is just another totally normal, completely human child.

Wandering over to the building the humans called church, Reiner loitered just inside the open entrance, pretending to take shelter from the heat. Peeking around the arch, he spied the man in the long black robe who owned or presided over this church place. From what they gathered already, this man was called a pastor and he led people in worshipping the walls. It was utter lunacy to the three outsiders, and judging from the not so secret whispers, the majority of the humans thought it was pretty ridiculous as well. Yet these black robed weirdos seemed to hold some power...some conspiracy with the men and women that gave the orders. They knew the really big game to hunt was behind Wall Sina, their final target. Alas, Reiner thought with an inward sigh. It will be years before we even have the opportunity to get that far.

Reiner stalked the usual targets: the church, the garrison headquarters, the town hall, a local tavern favored among garrison members, and anywhere the troops seemed to gather and lurk just out of ear shot. It was well into the afternoon by the time he was complete, and his feet ached painfully in his too tight boots. Getting foiled by a pair of boots...how unseemly of a warrior. Bowing his head as he half marched, half limped his way back towards the northeast of the barn, Reiner was too lost in thought about his pain to notice a small shadow descending upon him.

“You're it!”

Reiner felt himself shoved against the wall of the building he'd been walking next to. Bewildered, the blond boy looked up to see a reedy looking boy about his age and a younger boy about half that, beaming at him in a friendly, familiar way.

“What?” Reiner sputtered. “N-no, I'm not.”

“Aw, come on,” the older boy pleaded. “I tagged you fair and square!”

“Tagged?” Reiner repeated, unfamiliar with the way in which the boy utilized the word. Curiously, the titan shifter looked down on his arm and shoulders where he was shoved to make sure the boy with the lopsided smile did not 'tag' him in anyway. Did the child see something the others have not been able to see?

“Don't you know how to play tag?” the little boy asked, hanging onto the older boy's shirt.

Itching behind one ear nervously, Reiner was unsure how to answer. Faking it may prove to be disastrous, as they may put him through some sort of trials to assess his knowledge on this 'tag'; he opted for the truth.

“No, sorry, I don't.”

“Wow, where do you come from?” The older boy goggled.

“A village in the mountains, southeast Wall Maria,” Reiner recited perfectly without breaking eye contact. Their ruse.

“I guess they don't play tag there,” the younger boy half-whispered.

“It's easy,” the older boy explained patiently. “The person who's 'It' chases the others around, trying to tag them. When you tag someone, then they're 'It'. Get it?”

“I think so,” Reiner answered, repeating the instructions under his breath and in his head.

“So, you're ready then?”

Reiner shifted uncomfortably, wincing as his boots pinched him again. “I can't run, actually. My shoes are too tight.” He lifted one foot above the ground and grabbed his ankle to accentuate his point.

“Yeah, I saw you kind of limping,” The older boy said, standing back and rubbing his chin. “Hey, let's trade!”

“What?” Reiner blinked, unsure he heard correctly. Sure enough, the boy was sitting down before him and taking off his summer shoes. “No, you don't have to do that...”

“It's all right,” The boy said, handing his shoes up to Reiner. “Mine are too big for me; my older brother wore them last summer, or tried to, but he outgrew them by summer's end. Your boots look just my size. Here, take them off and let's try it out.”

Unsure why he was listening to this human boy, Reiner followed his directions without another word of protest. His feet felt relief as soon as his boots were off. Sitting opposite of the local boy, the titan shifter was pleased to discover that the boy had been right; their footwear did fit perfectly on the others feet.

“See?” The other boy gloated, tapping his toes together. “What'd I tell you?”

“My feet do feel better,” Reiner admitted with a small smirk. He flexed his toes, relishing how they were all able to breathe and wiggle around painlessly.

“Can we play nooooooow?” The younger boy pleaded.

“This is Pytor, and I'm Alek,” the boy introduced, rising to his feet.

“Reiner,” the blond boy said, following suit before brushing off the excess dirt from his clothes.

“You look old enough to join the Training Corps,” Alek observed. “I just turned twelve, a month after the cut-off date, so I have to wait until next spring to enlist.”

“I just turned twelve, too,” Reiner replied, “but I want to enlist with my friend and he's still eleven.”

“Hey, Alek!” A girl with pigtails called from a few meters away, a gaggle of children with her. She waited until Alek looked over his shoulder at her. “Are you in?”

“Yeah!” Alek called before turning back to look at Reiner. “You in, Reiner?”

Pursing his lips, Reiner understood he only had a moment to debate. It wasn't so very late that Bertolt and Annie (if she's even back to begin with) would worry, but Reiner had to consider if he ought to do this. They're humans, after all...and though he and his two comrades have been living among them for a year now, pretending to be one of them when need be, interacting with them...fraternizing with them is a whole other level. Would he be going above the call of duty by engaging in active playtime with the human juvenile’s?

 _When is the last time you played, Reiner?_ he asked himself. He did not have to strain his memory to know that it was with both Bertl and Berwick when he last played. _Before I was a warrior, I was just a kid,_ a small voice piped up from the recesses of his mind. The thought gave Reiner a start, causing him to blurt his answer.

“I'm in.”

 

The game was insultingly easy in theory, but in practice, Reiner found all of his exhaustive training had clearly not prepared him to chase energetic human children around a town square they were clearly more familiar with. A couple of the girls kept going after him whenever they were 'It', though Reiner could not understand why; they must dislike him for some reason, despite giggling. He went out of his way to not chase them, but they persisted for mysterious reasons.

For what seemed like an endless late summer afternoon, Reiner was able to forget about everything; his mission, his duties, being a warrior, a foreigner, a Titan, a monster, a stranger, an infiltrator, an enemy of mankind. For however many hours he played, with locals and refugees alike, he was simply Reiner Braun, a little boy far away from home. His laugh echoed just as carefree as the others, his earnestness to win never outweighing his enjoyment for the pure sport of the game. The objective: have fun coursed through his veins, tackling his command with as much earnestness as his original quest to bring down the Walls.

As the sun stretched higher into the sky, mothers in aprons came out to the town square, calling to their young one by one. It was a gradual process, and the game continued onward. Summer evenings granted children an extension on play with the excess daylight, an extension on childhood itself, despite the horrors of reality. Time was lost in dozens upon dozens of rounds of Tag, and before long Reiner was among those who've yet to be called in to dinner, until a familiar figure lurked into the square, standing off to the side to stare, thunderstruck.

Amber eyes caught green, causing Reiner to call a 'time out' for himself as he jogged over to Bertl, a sweaty, dopey grin on his face.

“Hey, Bertl! You came after all.”

“To fetch you,” Bertolt replied under his breath, giving a cautious look over Reiner's shoulder, at the children still at play. “Annie is back and we have a proper dinner.”

“Oh, all right. Let me just say goodbye, okay?”

“What?” Bertl hissed, too late as his blond friend was already running back to the strange human children to say his farewells. Crossing his arms over his chest, Bertolt tried to sort out his feelings on this strange matter. He was furious, yes, but frightened and worried. How stupid can Reiner be? A leader indeed. As the other boy ran over to him, Bertolt caught sight of the shoes on Reiner's feet – definitely not the boots he wore earlier that day. Bertolt walked alongside Reiner as they exited the town, saving his peace for when they were securely out of ear shot.

“Why were you with those kids? What were you doing with them? Do you know how dangerous it is to talk to them? And what happened to your shoes?”

Incredulous, Reiner stared at Bertl, his mouth agape as he tried to form responses to his friend's questions.

“My boots were pinching my feet,” Reiner answered, looking down at his nice, comfortable summer footwear. “A boy named Pytor swapped his shoes for mine, 'cause his were too big and mine were too small.”

“What did you do?” Bertolt demanded. “Walk up to every boy you saw and ask if he'd like to swap shoes?”

“No!” Reiner cried. Why is Bertolt so angry? “He offered because I said I couldn't play tag because my shoes hurt my feet.”

“Play what?”

“Tag. It's the game we were playing just now.”

“Didn't look like a game; just a bunch of kids running around aimlessly.”

Reiner made a noise of exasperation and rolled his eyes. “You sound jealous, Bertl. I'm sure you can come play tomorrow.”

“I don't want to play tomorrow,” Bertl insisted, his ears burning at the accusation. “I don't want to play with them at all.”

“They're nice! Besides, we talk to people.”

“When we absolutely have to, Reiner.”

They walked in tense silence for a few moments, Reiner's little lion face scrunched up in a deep pout as he tried to think of a better argument why Bertolt was being utterly ridiculous.

“We're supposed to be pretending to be one of them, remember?”

“You didn't look like you were pretending anything,” Bertolt shot back in a low voice, glaring at his best friend from his peripherals.

“Well, I was,” Reiner insisted with a huff. The crumbling stone barn was just ahead of them.

“Reiner, you shouldn't be playing with those kids!”

“What does it matter, Bertl?” Reiner exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Bertolt came to a halt and grabbed his friend by the sleeve, forcing Reiner to look him in the face.

“Because we're not here to play with humans, Reiner; we're here to kill them.”

Wide eyed and mouth open, Reiner stared at his oldest and dearest friend as if he had just punched Reiner in the gut. Bertolt looked as nonchalant as ever, as if he had spoken about the weather, while Reiner remained horrorstruck and rooted to the spot.

“There you are.”

The boys turned to see Annie in the doorway of the barn, wiping her bloodied hands on a rag once part of a horse's blanket.

“Let's eat.”

Bertolt retreated with Annie with Reiner waiting a few moments before slowly following his friends, his head hanging in defeat.

Dinner was a silent affair, with Reiner uncharacteristically quiet as they ate the rabbit and the quail Annie managed to track, hunt and prepare for them. It was a relief to eat meat after so long, and for Annie, to keep her own skills sharp. In their homeland, children are taught to hunt as soon as they can hold a rudimentary spear. Consuming the illegal game served Reiner as another reminder of the differences between the humans and themselves.

A short while after dinner, Bertolt squirmed in discomfort as Reiner's silence began to weigh heavily on him. If Annie noticed the strain, and how could she not when the chattiest among them was currently the most pensive, she did not remark on it. Turning in earlier than usual, Reiner brought his blanket up over his head despite the summer heat. He did not want to chance looking at his friend when Bertl eventually climbed up to the old hay loft to join him.

Annie and Bertl stayed up for only a little while longer, cleaning the barn and making sure their cook fire was totally smothered and ceased smoking. Waiting until Annie retreated to her hammock bed in the farthest corner of the barn, Bertolt took his lantern and slowly ascended the ladder up to the loft before settling in next to the sleeping area he shared with Reiner. With a lingering look of remorse towards the other boy, Bertl turned and blew out the light before slipping under his blanket.

Reiner shifted uncomfortably, tossing around until he finally rolled onto his side to face the brunet boy in the dark.

“Bertl?”

“Yeah, Reiner?”

“I'm sorry I upset you.”

“I'm sorry I was so mad,” Bertolt apologized, giving a start when he felt Reiner's face pressed against his shoulder, and Reiner's strong arms around his torso.

“Bertl...” Reiner's shaking voice was barely above a whisper, but the taller boy understood his friend was on the verge of tears. “They were just kids...like us...they're all just kids. Some of them didn't have parents to call them to dinner...and I played with them because they're just like you and me and Annie and Berwick...and I...” His voice cracked, the sound of a dam breaking as the flood commenced. Bertl quickly returned the embrace. “I'm no better than the cat who plays with a mouse, Bertl...I didn't mean to! I just wanted it to be like how it used to, back home. I just wanted to forget that we did this to them. We're the reason why no parents are calling them to dinner, why they're so far from home, why they have nightmares at night...we did this to them and we...I don't want to do it again and again. What kind of monster am I to play with them?” He gave a shuddering sob against the crook of Bertolt's neck.

“You're not a monster,” Bertl reassured him quietly, so as not to wake Annie. “We're warriors, Reiner, and no one ever told us it was going to be easy.”

“No one told us humans are so similar to us, either. That there would be nice people, kind and generous. And kids. So many children, Bertl. It's like...it's like killing you and Annie and watching Berwick die all over again.”

Bertolt did not want to vocalize his own doubts, so he continued to pat Reiner's back reassuringly, despite not believing his own comfort.

“Everything we were told about them is a lie,” Reiner continued. “They don't know about us, they don't know anything. They're scared like sheep; they just want to survive in peace. Why can't we just let them have their lives within the walls?”

“Reiner, you can't say things like that,” Bertl warned, fearing the truth in Reiner's words. “We were given a mission and we're going to see it through. They're a primitive society, and our people can't continue to develop until the last full-blooded human is gone.”

“There has to be another way.”

“There isn't.” Bertolt interrupted gently, resting his head atop Reiner's sighing. “We're not meant to like what we do, Reiner, but we're here now and we're going to finish the mission so we can go home. Don't you want to go home?”

“Of course,” Reiner sounded mildly offended as he sniffled.

“Then we're only pretend humans while we're here. No more straying from the mission. No more friendly chats. No more games. Just you. Me. Annie.” Bertolt felt tears prickling his eyes as he forced his own guilt down, down way down in the pit of his gut. He then added, “I don't care what it takes, how many walls we have to smash: we are going to go home. Together.”

Reiner's hoarse voice, a whimper in the bleak darkness of night, was like a vice around Bertolt's heart.

“I just wanted to play...”

Bertolt didn't answer; they both knew anything further said would be useless anyway. By the time their mission would be complete, they would be older, nearly grown men. The window for summer evenings and playtime was gone, tucked away in a sleepy, snow capped village in their memories and hearts.

**\- end -**


End file.
